


See It Swimming

by roachpatrol



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-03
Updated: 2011-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 02:36:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roachpatrol/pseuds/roachpatrol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten Sweep Time Stamp to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/177678">With Your Feet In The Air And Your Head On The Ground</a>.</p><p><i>He's got your matesprit's eyes, and that's the first thing that's been funny in so long.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	See It Swimming

**Author's Note:**

> Set 10 Sweeps after [With Your Feet In The Air And Your Head On The Ground](http://archiveofourown.org/works/177678).
> 
> For [Urban Anchorite ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/t_ZM/pseuds/urbanAnchorite)

 

There comes a point when you get so good at doing what you love that it stops being doing and starts being _being_ and at that point, there's nothing left to love: you hollow yourself out and turn inwards, spiraling down your own drain. You’re only twenty sweeps and you feel so gods damned old, a used-up empty bottle of yourself washing up against some weary shore.

 

He's got your matesprit's eyes, and that's the first thing that's been funny in so _long._ All your sweeps of rainbow riot dripping down fingersweet from your head your teeth your clubs your hands your heart, tearing every bit of the universe you could reach into special stardust, now, this little guy that you and your love made without ever fucking knowing stands right here, bold as blue brass and twice as hardassed. His jaw is all set to hatred, bared fangs like a slice of wicked ice, utterly cold, utterly cruel: he does not know you and he does not love you, but those fucking eyes could never hate you anywhere.

 

"Come here, kid," you tell him, "MOTHERFUCKING COME HERE."

 

He strides across the floor of your _Capricorn_ 's bridge, his steps ringing out crisp through the gritty hiss of old dried blood that follows you everywhere.

 

"NOW," you say, "now, kid, wHy dOn'T YOU MOTHERFUCKIN ALL GET YOUR SCHOOLFEED UP IN THIS BiTcH aNd tELL YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MIRTHFUL MESSIAH what the FUCKING HAPS IS ALL SuPoSabLye supposed to be?"

 

"I am here to kill you, monster," he repeats. His voice is deep and sure and steady. Some part of you goes _ah_ and some other part of you goes _oh_ and the rest of you is just the same long empty scream as it's always had all up in its business.

 

A snicker worms its way between your teeth, spiny and bitter, and spatters sickly across the silence between you. He flinches, but does not retreat, not even a single step. Spine of steel, this kid: the part of you that is busy screaming kicks that shit up just one more notch past how high you even thought it was possible for any fucking thing to ever go.

 

"WHY," you say, "would you all go and DO A  MOTHERFUCKING THING LIKE THAT, mY bRoThEr?"

 

"You are a tyrant," he says. "Worse, you are a poor one."

 

You laugh, and it feels good, you throw back your head and pail it on out of you, a rush of black mirth thick enough to smother all your air right out and send you reeling, weaving, heaving, you stagger and your knees hit the gritty deck. You maybe haven't been like to take all that much care of your big bad self, lately-- haven't seen much point. But your head swims like the ocean and your heart is all going _flap flap flap_ like a flag in the wind, million holes all through and going like anything, and you _feel._

 

You _feel_.

 

"Fair enough," you concede, "FAIR E-FUCKING-NOUGH, MY MAIN MOTHERFuCkInG BiTcHtITs."

 

He raises a club, halfway, and then drops it again to his side. "I confess you are not exactly as I expected," he says quietly, almost uneasy, and you giggle a little.

 

"Who the fuck is?" you ask, of him, of all the different little wondering parts of yourself. "WHO THE MOTHERFUCK IS? Here, kid, come HERE."

 

He takes a wary step.

 

"KID," you say, patient, "I ain't mad, COME A LITTLE FUCKIN' CLOSER. I aIn'T mAd, I jUs' WaNnA sEe YoU."

 

When he comes close enough, you grab up his head in two sets of gentle claws-- gentle, gentle, sweet and true to this kid made out of the both of you, so long since you've had any sort of cause at all to be gentle!-- and he condescends to let you, his hands tense but teetering still around that rim of ready violence, and he lets you look your fill.

 

His hair is all curling waves and his horns are long, backswept twists; the blood hanging in warweary bags around his eyesockets is a regal indigo, just a half step down from yours; his jaw, too, is your own wicked point. But one last miracle has been sent to you now at this final hour: your matesprite's eyes stare clear and true out at you from this wriggler's parody of your face, one last time, one more time than you'd ever thought you were ever fucking getting in the land of the waking.

 

You'd closed those eyes with your own fucking fingers, last sweep, pulled those true blue eyelids down over the empty pupils and your own color had come raining out of your personal sockets when you'd wrapped your rusted pan around the unbelievable wicked harshness of a universe where he was never gonna look at you ever again

 

aNd

 

now he is, here he is again: just one more time, that flash of teeth promises, just this once, soon's you flinch your shit is fucked ten ways from a hole in a hull those teeth promises and you know he can put his name to that promise in soulblood because each and everyone one of those teeth are yours but those motherfucking _eyes_

 

 _oh my love my love my dearest proudest righteous darling my one my only_ a part of your mind says and

 

 _FUCK FUCK FUCK_ agrees the other part and the part of you that is screaming is screaming purple all down your cheeks.

 

"I lOvEd YoU," you say to his eyes, Equius's eyes, "yOU KNOW THAT, MOTHERFUCKER i lOvEd yOu and nothing's been right at all since you all went and died on me, NOTHING'S BEEN ANY LITTLE MOTHERFUCKING BIT FUNNY AT ALL."

 

"How's this for a punchline?" those teeth of this kid asks you, and in a bright flash he clubs you upside the head, sending you sprawling to the floor in a sick cloud of blood and pain-rainbows.

 

"Yeah," you say, with the ruin of your jaw, "YEAH THaT'lL do."

 

You close your eyes and in the darkness you reach out for wherever it was that Equius has gone off to, far away over the black land of whatever shore it is you’ve been bumping up against. You got a long way to go but if you hurry you might just catch your best beloved up--

 

Your boy's-- _your boy's, his and yours and his--_ club comes down a final time, and everything

 

goes

 

quiet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
